


Your kind. My kind

by FirstTheyStamp



Category: Asoiaf - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Heartbreak OTP meets tales of the jungle, Naked Willas, Strong independent Sansa, except it's not set in the jungle, im not sure how this can even work, in the forest, its a forest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-08
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-13 14:29:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4525599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FirstTheyStamp/pseuds/FirstTheyStamp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sansa Stark lives in a cottage near the Kingswood. Only what she finds one time while she walks her pet direwolf is not something she'd ever have expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr has...had a SansaxWillas week. So...I guess I wanted to try and chip in.
> 
> Sorry to all those people who can actually write and think this is awful.

Snakes are the wisest of creatures.

"I wasn't born like this, you know. I wasn't born to be...a man." The handsome stranger Sansa had found wandering, naked as his name day in the woods had soft, gentle eyes, but his gaze still had a depth that had a more primal undertone. His dark green eyes glimmered even in the dark as he leaned back in his chair, away from the light of the table lamp next to her sofa. Lady had barked insistently when she picked up his scent and led Sansa to him in the woods. This man, or not a man, as he'd just called himself, was standing next to a tall ash tree and gazing up at the moon. Sansa was somehow grateful his back was facing her when she approached him, and he'd since decided to cover his front with both hands when he noticed her presence. Seeing his bottom didn't make her blush so much as the prospect of having seen him fully nude.

"I'm not sure I understand what you mean. If you were born a boy, I think it's inherent that you were meant to be man." She raised her winter blue mug to her lips and had a sip of tea. This strange man in her living room seemed more bewildered and innocent than a potential assailant. Sansa thought this much to herself as she put her mug on her coffee table. "Why were you naked in the woods?" 

The man blinked and stared down at his hands, holding them up at his chest's height and watching them curiously, before speaking softly. "I suppose I'm always naked. I don't...wear anything else over my skin. Except my fur...which is gone." Sansa continued to stare at him, this all felt like some crazed dream that made no sense and come the morning, she'd reflect until another pressing concern took its place in her mind and agenda. It all seemed quite surreal. Sansa bringing a naked man back to her cottage and dressing him up in one of Robb's plaid shirts and a pair of Jon's jeans. The boxers she'd lent him...Sansa didn't know who those belonged to. "I live in the forest. But...I'm not some...outcast of your kind." He slowly put his hands down and looked up at her with his bright green gaze. Sansa felt a heat radiate from his eyes and brushed a strand of her hair back from her forehead when it fell over her diadem as she scoffed in disbelief. 

"Just promise me you're not some psychiatric patient listed as missing." Sansa said under her breath, her fingers fixing the hem of her knit jumper. This was by all accounts a bad idea. Between the fact that he was some psychiatric patient, which, he was truly beginning to sound like or a potential sex offender, Sansa kept the can of mace Jon had given her under the sofa cushion next to her. But she wasn't inclined to spray him with it. Something...in his eyes made her want to listen to him, but he wasn't a chatterbox, so she found herself egging him on for answers. 

"If you're not a man, what are you?" Sansa said, trying to sound dismissive of him to pique him into sharing more details about himself. 

"I'm...a wildcat. A tiger." He said, breathing softly and watching her in turn. Now Sansa was definitely convinced he was a mental patient. She nodded sarcastically and reached for her mug of tea. "You must have had an overstimulated childhood, that's quite an imagination." Sansa said as she sipped her tea again and looked at him quizzically. 

"I wasn't born a man. But I became a child when I was very young." He said grimly to her, showing some degree of annoyance with all of her dismissals. "My mother was a wildcat as well. I was only a few days old when a hunter claimed her for her pelt." The seriousness in his voice stirred Sansa's curiosity. "If what you say is true, how does a wildcat cub become a man then?" She said, both coyly and genuinely interested.

"A spring sickness came some twenty years ago. Many people in the village died. Fathers, sons, daughter, brothers, sisters, children...a woman who happened to lose all of those found herself alone in this world. Widowed, childless, orphaned...she lost everyone." The stranger's gaze broke away from Sansa's and glanced at a painting of a gods wood that her father insisted she take to her cottage. "I, an orphan, and her, a mother with no more children. Fate is a great thing that saw me wander into a gods wood as she prayed to the trees." His voice, stern, had now grown soft as he seemingly reminisced. Sansa chimed in. " You still haven't told me how you became a man."

The stranger laughed. "I wandered into a gods wood and found her. I don't remember how...I don't remember being a cub either...but I remember smelling the earth and the leaves. She then noticed me and took me to her bosom. But...you know men don't like my kind. A man watched her from afar and thought he'd seen her cradle a beast in her arms. She locked herself away in her hovel but the man followed her, demanding she give me to him." The man scratched his neck and face as he explained. "She refused, insisting I was a child. The man was intent on his resolve, and demanded she open the door so he could see her son with his own eyes. She refused and the man began to pound on the door, slamming into it to break it down. He would have killed me." The man laid his hands on his lap and scratched his legs back and forth anxiously, as if the next bit he did not expect Sansa to believe one bit. "Then...a serpent appeared in her hovel. He slid in through an open window and told my mother that she had nothing to fear. Because of her resolve to keep me safe, she would have a son..."

His green eyes watched Sansa intently, registering her every move it seemed. "Snakes are the wisest of creatures, and I became a man." Sansa Stark could say she had heard a lot of mad things living next to the forest, but none so intricately...real. If this had been some second hand story she'd heard, she could have easily dismissed it as a case of someone needing professional help. But this man...and his eyes...stapled Sansa to actually believing something so far out.

"Do you have a name? She must have given one to you." Sansa's fingers fidgeted on the rim of her mug. The stranger nodded and leaned forward, coming into the light, his green eyes with a hint of feral in them.

"Willas."


	2. Serpents And Their Thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Magic? He's a wizard.

 

 

 

The moon was hung high over his head, with a few violet remnants of rain clouds to veil it thinly as he charged through the forest. The rainfall had been generous, and it deposited hefty drops of water that pooled together on the surface of leaves that were shaped like canopies, and dripped down from one leave, to another, until they gave in to their weight and finally splashed against the forest floor. As Willas ran through the forest, he ruffled the leaves and felt the cold kiss of droplets on his sides, his feet and his...whiskers?

 

_-Whiskers._ _I'm a beast again.-_ He thought to himself. it explained why his head was at the height of the shrubbery and ferns on the forest floor. His legs were contracting and expanding like clockwork as he raced through the forest, he had no idea where to, but his legs were leading him. He was able to make out the steep slope in front of his path and soon, his breathing grew slightly strained from the effort it was taking him to make the ascent. Suddenly, his legs stopped and his paws dug into the dirt under his feet. Instinctively, Willas gazed around, his feline eyes scanning the shades of grey in the dark. Nothing but  the forest thickness to know he was even there. Looking up at the sky, he regained his breath as he watched the glimmering moon. A glimmer, he knew it was a glimmer, because it's shine was faint and not of it's own nature. the dirt under his paws was saturated with moisture, he lifted one of his front legs up and felt the trickling water run on the underside of his foot. 

_ -A lovely night out-  _ he said to himself as he turned and looked for the nearest way back down to the forest floor. Hopefully he could find a secluded spot amongst some rocks or even a thicket of bushes to spend the night. Anything would be welcome, provided it was  _dry._ He began to tread the path down the slope when suddenly, his ears caught the sound of something sliding against another surface. The closer the sound got, the more clearly he could make it out. First it was sliding, now it was like scratches. His nose caught a faint scent too.   


_ -Scales-  _ Willas knew the smell of serpents and bared his long teeth and claws as he turned and searched his surroundings for a slithering figure. It was in front of him, sliding over the roots of a tree. Letting out a low but still fearsome growl, he arched his chest down against the wet dirt and brought his sharp teeth down between his front paws, ready to strike as soon as the snake slithered within reach. Then, in a low and husky voice, the snake spoke.

"You had better be fast enough, and know exactly where to strike. You only have one opportunity. Waste it, and I'll forget why I haven't killed you sooner." 

The snake slithered before him and coiled its body on the wet soil amongst some fallen leaves, it's head standing out from the rest of it's body. Willas was still tensed in a defensive posture, with his head only inches from the ground and the muscles in his back flexed, a mean stance, but not enough to sway the serpent into an equally challenging position.

 

"Speak. Unless you have no wits about you, in which case, I am mistaken and sought out the wrong wildcat."

 

The snake spoke cooly, its head never hovering but always still and steady in the air. Its forked tongue tasted the air and its  bright eyes with black jagged notches. Willas snarled.

 

"I have no words to trade with a poisonous serpent. Take your leave and I will follow. I don't care if you sink your fangs into me, I'll crush your head." Reinforcing his stance, Willas growled once more and shuffled his claws against the dirt, gathering some under his paws.

 

"I see your temper has gone sour from being ousted from the life of men. Were you this fierce to the mother that raised you? clothed you? Fed you? Taught you how to speak?" The snake tasted the air again and raised the end of its tail, rattling it. "That woman spent her life trying to tame a soulless beast. If we'd both known you would never be more, I would have left you a cub and she would have delivered you to the man who followed her from the godswood, leaving you at his mercy. A fine pelt you would have made, perhaps to clothe that man's child."

Willas raised himself from the ground and stood straight, whatever instinct he had to end the snake's life faded away when he heard the serpent speak of his mother, and his past as a child. "What..do you know of my mother? How do you know this about me?" Retracting his claws, Willas brought his haunches to his front legs and sat in front of the snake. 

"I know your mother was noble, and a noble heart gives way to another if there is enough truth within." The serpent slithered around him, circling him and examining him under the moonlight. "She had tears for you, pleaded for you, wished for strength to protect you even though she did not have the slightest notion of  _who,_ not  _what_ you were. She had a mother's love to give and no child to be grateful for it, that is, until you found her in the godswood." The snake stopped in front of him and waved his head once to each side. "I thought you could be worthy of her." 

 

Willas remembered his mother. A tall, slender and graceful woman, bright eyed and with calloused but gentle hands. When he was little, he used to like to watch her hands whenever they walked through town and she led him from their home to the marketplace. His fingers wrapped around hers. Willas now thought that perhaps subconsciously, he'd always known he wasn't meant to have hands, and mayhaps that's why he was always so fascinated by his mother's. 

"I...used to believe I was cursed. That I wronged someone and the only fit punishment was to...pay." Willas clawed the dirt and fell down to lay on his stomach. All his life (as a wildcat) he  thought he had been atoning. This shifted his perspective, and to some degree, offered him closure. "I was never meant to have been a man. I know that now..." It still pained him to reminisce about his old life. Time had gone by, surely, and he adjusted to life as a wildcat. He bitterly accepted that there was no going back and he'd live out his days in the forest, away from everything he'd ever known. This seemed like the last piece in his acceptance. He had become what he was always meant to be. 

 

"You were the one wronged. There was a certain finality in what I did." The serpent was coiled again and its rattle emanated its signature shaking noise. "You'll do everything for  _her._ To be  _hers."_

 

"Hers?" Willas' thoughts fumbled, in his _true_ form, he realized that his mind had wandered away from the latest of his realities, mainly, the pretty girl....or was she a woman already? That had found him when his claws turned into fingers and his fur shed. He was dumbstruck, but despite that, he still acknowledged she was...unique.

"One noble heart deserves another. If it can be found...speaking of which, it's time you woke up and won hers." The snake tilted its head back and slithered. "She has a need for...someone true. " It seemed for a moment as if it was ready to leave as it carved a path on the forest floor next to Willas, when out of nowhere, it drew its fangs out and struck him in his right hind leg.

 

In his dream, Willas gave a mighty roar in anguish, that on the fold out couch Sansa had let him sleep on, translated into a cry of pain. Beads of sweat were on his forehead and he lifted the blankets off his leg as he sat up, short of breath. His leg was throbbing above his knee and he could see why, his leg was swelling and turning a sickly flushed red. 

Sansa ran into the den where she'd left him for the night, from her room which she precariously locked and turned on the light. "Did you scream? I thought I hear-" Sansa choked on her words as she saw the diamond pattern of a serpent's back slide out an open window and leave. Willas she saw, was flustered and holding onto his leg for dear life

"Was that a snake?" Sansa gaped at the window then at Willas.

Outside, Oberyn slid away, leaving a trail amongst the tall straws of blonde grass that under the moon, turned blue.


	3. How To Explain?

"Myotoxic venom." Announced the physician, an old man that was hunched over his clip board with a pair of yellow tinted spectacles. "It destroys muscles and causes paralysis. Your boyfriend was very lucky you knew exactly what to do, and brought him in. If you'd delayed, he might have stopped breathing, but his resilience is to be admired." Jotting some messy scribble at the bottom of his clipboard, he shook his head. "Not many that I've seen could have afforded to wait that long." In truth, Sansa recalled differently how clumsily she had handled the situation; she struggled to keep him calm and tie a tourniquet above the bite, and even undressed he was heavy, lifting him up with her shoulder under his arm was a challenge, and an even bigger one to see him to the clinic. "He's not my boyfriend..." Sansa squinted her eyes to make out the name embroidered on the doctor's white coat. "Dr. Pycelle...he's just a friend." Pycelle, the Lannister family physician that was also, incidentally, a close confidante of Cersei Lannister's. - _Perfect.-_ She said to herself, - _Now she's going to have news of me and tell Joff.-_

Joffrey had been her torturer of years since high school, her boyfriend scarcely longer than that. It wasn't until she had finished her collegiate studies, that he made it abundantly clear that from then on, her sole duty was to be a gleaming decoration on his arm for all future social events and spread her legs at his behest. Naturally, Sansa was pliant at the beginning, convinced it was better to pander to him rather than risk his foul moods. It wasn't so bad, she thought at first, before she'd known the truth. The jewelry was pretty, and the gala events had very interesting people attending, but on one such occasion where she had (unknowingly) made the mistake of having a very intriguing conversation with Petyr Baelish, Joffrey briskly grabbed her by the wrist and saw her out of the ballroom, where he proceeded to yell at her and say how disgusting it looked. Joffrey, of Lannister lineage, assumed the worst in every situation, and didn't spare her the very worst of possible whispers from the onlookers in the gala.  _-People will say you're a whore.-_ Just the thought of those words in Joffrey's tone made her shudder, and her gaze became distant. 

 

"Miss Stark?" The doctor's words brought her back to the present moment and she blinked thrice, before remembering why she was here. "Yes doctor?" Courtesy was always something she had to her advantage, and maybe if the doctor saw she was polite and graceful, he wouldn't mention her visit to the hospital to Cersei Lannister. After all, the woman would feast on gossip and the rumors would be never ending; Sansa Stark bringing a strange man from her home to the hospital." 

 

"He's awake now. Refuses to sleep, but if you wish to see him now, I will allow it." As the doctor spoke, a nurse appeared at his side and smiled politely, with her own observation chart in hand as she gestured for Sansa to follow. The nurse led her through a hallway into a private room and drew back a curtain with a swipe of her arm. Willas, Sansa saw, was sitting on the edge of the bed with his legs hanging over, to the nurse's dismay. "Doctor Pycelle was very adamant that you rest your leg!" She snapped as she proceeded to help him lay back down and ease his bitten leg up onto the bed. Sansa stared, confused. Willas smiled at Sansa as he earnestly responded to the nurse. "It IS resting...this is nothing." As he swung his leg back onto the bed, he groaned and shifted higher up onto the bed, wincing when he adjusted it and frowning at all the bandages. "He said they cut out the corruption after they gave me the serum." Willas tried to peek under the bandages on his thigh, only to have his hand slapped away by the nurse. "I want to see it." He said quietly, glancing up at Sansa. 

"Is there any pain?" Sansa said as she took a step closer and folded her arms into one another. The nurse nodded at her as she fixed the IV's and flicked on the monitor, but Willas shook his head. "I've had much worse...can we leave here soon?" Hesitant, she looked up at the nurse, who was wagging her finger. 

 

"Not yet...the doctor insisted so he could be sure you won't feel worse." Sansa stopped at her own words. He was a  man grown and yet she spoke to him as if he were a small child with no understanding of his surroundings. "Just for the night..." She said uneasily, unsure if a single day would be enough, but to her relief, the nurse stepped in and complimented. "In the morning, once you're better." 

 

Willas grunted, displeased as he leaned back on the pillows that were piled up at the head of his bed and the nurse collected all the syringe casings and disposed of them. Sansa was just as uneasy as Willas as she took a seat next to his bed and tossed her hair over her shoulders, the nurse leaving the both of them to each other's presence. The silence only lasted for a few moments before Willas spoke. "Thank you. For...bringing me here." He cleared his throat and shifted slightly, glancing everywhere except at her. "I realize...this is an inconvenience in every way." 

"Hardly. It was under my roof that this happened to you." Sansa said, her expression souring as she remembered the scales slithering out the window into the dark. Now she'd have to add checking her bed and blankets for snakes to the list of things she did before going to bed. "Will you be alright this evening?" Sansa played with her fingers nervously, unable to grasp what it was about this man's presence that had her senses running amok before she slid her arm into the strap of her purse.

"I will be. Thank you." Willas understood she meant to leave him and shifted onto his side, pulling down a pillow from under him and bringing it to his knee to help him rest his leg. Closing his eyes so Sansa wouldn't be delayed longer than she wished, he soon fell into a peaceful slumber and breathed softly, as she stood up and the sounds of her shoes clicked against the tile floor. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I intend to expand this during the week, mainly some Sansa-centred drama.


	4. There Ain't No Rest For The Wicked

Cersei Lannister couldn't stand the doctor's paused ramblings, let alone when she had other things on her mind to worry about, like the annual Lannister benefit. As the public face of Lannister enterprises, all preparations fell in with her other responsibilities. There weren't particularly many, but handling the arrangements for charitable events was something she considered ultimately tedious. It wouldn't have been an overstatement to have said that it was perhaps the most demanding of her duties within the company, as her father was chairman of the board, Jaime (a reluctant) CEO and Tyrion chief financial officer. As one of the majority shareholders in the enterprise and only ever having to make sure these event flowed smoothly, Cersei took a lot of care in planning the soir é es.  Dr. Pycelle was however, one of the inconveniences that came with these responsibilities, and she was beginning to regret not having indefinitely postponed her lunch with him. 

 

So there she was, at the Regatta de Blanc restaurant, with doctor Pycelle giving her news she hardly cared for and occasionally leaning forward to whisper things to her, bits of his lunch in her ear making her even more repulsed. 

 

"Qyburn's lawsuit was settled, it seems his malpractice insurance was never an over the top expense..." The escargot Pycelle was pushing around his plate before bringing it to his mouth made Cersei's skin crawl. Something decrepit having a delicacy. 

 

"He is a far better physician than most give him credit for, and I hope he remains confident with his skills and knowledge." Cersei said as she laid her fork down on the table. The Chilean sea bass she had ordered was still before her, hardly touched when she decided that her appetite had been chased away.  "I have faith in his skill, give him my regards the next time you see him, I would visit myself, but I am in no critical condition, like most of his patients." Raising her hand and signaling for the waiter to bring the cheque, her disdain for the doctor soon became relief, as she had nonchalantly ended their gathering. But before the clumsy waiter could reach her with the book in hand and swipe her card, the doctor spoke again. 

 

"Speaking of critical conditions, the other day I treated a snake bite." Said the doctor as he picked something out from between his teeth. Cersei turned her back to him and glared daggers at the waiter that had stopped to take another order, hiding her disgust. 

 

"A snakebite? How rural." This conversation would not be further drawn out by her doing, if at all. 

 

"A young man was brought in, the bite was on his leg. Most bites I had seen that progressed as much usually called for amputating, but for him, the anti-venom and an excision of the muscle proved useful enough." The old doctor spoke so slowly, and randomly, Cersei thought she had finally gathered enough proof that he was no longer lucid enough to be a treating physician. 

 

"He was fortunate then, that your intervention was timely." Her tone was flat, uninterested. 

 

The doctor wiped his mouth with a silk napkin and fixed his spectacles, clueless to the fact that Cersei was already asking to be relieved by settling the bill. "Timely, yes. But if it hadn't been for Sansa Stark, I would be telling you of how a young man lost his life, or at the very least, his leg." 

  
"Sansa Stark??" The name piqued Cersei's interest. Sansa Stark had been the girl that had dragged Joffrey's name through the mud. Joffrey pleaded no contest to charges of assault and battery, at Tywin's behest, under the pretense that Lannisters didn't condone violence, and that a correctional facility would bring him to heel. The media coverage was a thing that rivaled even the head of state's foreign policies. In truth, no one wished to resume business dealings with a family that coddled abusive boyfriends, and Tywin Lannister didn't think twice before having Joffrey's counselor agree to a plea bargain. The matter itself  would have been very brief in court. Witnesses could have lined up to take the stand and they all would have said the exact same thing. - _They argued and he pushed her down a flight of stairs.-_ Several statements said the same thing, even if the words were changed or jumbled. And so, Joffrey Baratheon was charged with third degree assault and battery, and serving a 24 month sentence in Ghaston Grey Correctional. If Cersei had been in charge, Joffrey wouldn't have even seen a day in court. Sansa Stark could have been handsomely paid off or even sent away, all the witnesses be damned. But the media clouded the situation so much that only Tywin kept a sound mind during it all.  _-Justice.-_ The word was disgusting to say as it only reminded her of the day of sentencing. Now, she had tidings of the hollow tramp that was responsible for her son's imprisonment. "How is the little dove? Still turning heads and not for the best?" She couldn't hide the contempt in her voice, even if she tried. 

"She seemed serene. Hardly shaken, but...that was to be expected." The doctor huffed out between sips of his spirit. Now he was goading her. 

 

"Expected? Why, the girl has never been anything but dignified and poised." The remark fell from Cersei's lips with sheer sarcasm. "The next time you see her, give her my regards, doctor." Ready to push back her chair and stand, Cersei smiled woodenly at the doctor, baring her teeth in the way her aunt Gemma had taught her when she was a little girl. 

 

"You can be sure I will, I may see her as soon as the young man is discharged, I asked beforehand that she watch over him for the next few days. Diligent young lady, she agreed. I dare say I may have misinterpreted the nature of their relationship, but...I am no stranger to when two young souls call out to one another." The doctor removed his glasses and folded them, the tremors in his hands as he tucked them away making Cersei's patience dwindle like the final grains of sand in an hour glass.  _-Does he think I care about any of this or his stupid ramblings? Let alone about that harlot?-_ Cersei crumpled one of the silk napkins in her pale fingers, still smiling. 

"Once again doctor, you leave me indebted to your kindness." Finally, the waiter brought the cheque over and Cersei swiped her card, finally liberated. "Enjoy the rest of your day." Standing gracefully, she donned a pair of black, square rounded sunglasses and collected her purse, leaving the doctor to his own foolish ramblings. Cersei could feel the bile pool inside of her as she remembered it all, and now her mood was soured by the news of that Stark tramp prancing around while Joffrey was kept away, then, the idea resurfaced. It was something she had only ever so much as mentioned to Jaime, as a possibility, not something she had planned to do in the near future, and even he dismissed it as reckless.  _-Never say anything like that again.-_ Jamie's green eyes, mirror to her own were stark with rejection.  _-She doesn't owe anything and she's already been through enough.-_ Not for Cersei's taste.  True, Sansa had no debts, but Cersei did. To pay her in kind for what she did to Joff. Maybe the doctor wasn't so useless after all.

 

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

 

Willas stared curiously at the crutches down under his arms. His brow was furrowed and he didn't even take a step as he was still trying to figure out how to work the aluminum contraptions. Sansa was sitting next to the bed with her legs crossed, leaning her head up on her hand, as her elbow rested on the arm rest of the chair. Her fingers were buried in her auburn hair as she stared in disbelief that he couldn't make sense of their use. The nurses had left, whispering to each other about Willas. Sansa overheard and rather than joking amongst themselves, she overheard the words  _-handsome-_ and - _adorable.-_ The past days had been surreal, and Sansa never even stopped to think about Willas. Not in  _that_ sense at least. But the nurses wasted no time in making simpering comments about him, or blushing whenever they spoke of having him bathed or changed. Sansa had stepped out as the nurses helped him into a pair of briefs, one of Robb's plaid shirts and a pair of jeans. Robb was a size smaller it seemed, as the buttons on the chest were straining, but fortunately, the rest wasn't so miscalculated. Now that Sansa had a moment to spare, she watched him. He was handsome, not at all unpleasant to look upon and he was very nicely built. Broad chested and slender, and even under saggy clothes one could tell his muscles were outlined by the shape of his jaw and thick shoulders. His hair was a sandy colored brown and his eyes big, dark green. Tilting her head as she glanced at him from the angle she was sitting in, she wouldn't actually have any difficulty in believing that he was what he said.  _-Wildcat.-_ Yet, struggling to find a pace with the crutches, made him seem even more vulnerable. 

 

"You're thinking too much." Sansa stood up and walked to his side, holding him as she tapped his fingers so he'd let go of his right crutch. "This seems alright, the grip is at your wrist's height." She measured it with a glance and combed her hair over one of her shoulders with her fingers as she tried to figure out what was making him doubt how to walk. "You think you'll fall over?" Sansa pursed her lips. "It's easier than it looks. The trick is to swing your injured leg with the rest of your body, with your good leg giving you leverage." Sansa stepped in front of him, if he fell over, well, she silently thanked her sub conscience for making her chuck the high heeled boots in favor of more amicable wedges.  "Try taking a step towards me, putting them forward, and swinging your body's weight, leg included, ahead."

Willas glanced at her uneasily, his knuckles were white from holding his crutches so tightly, but after a few moments, and fearing she would lose patience, he decided to at least try. Balanced on his good leg as he swung the crutches forward and planted them on the ground, he took a step towards her and winced when he accidentally set his bad foot on the ground. Standing on it put pressure on his knee and thigh. 

 

"Easy...easy." Sansa said as she understood his sudden grimace. "It takes time. But you'll get used to it." Bringing her long red mane over the front of her left shoulders, her fingers worked a quick braid and with a tie, she fastened it. "Do you think you can make it down to the car? Of course we'll take the elevator, but if you prefer, I can ask one of the nurses to bring you a wheel chair." Sansa was nervous, and she didn't know why, but she knew that when she spoke too much, something was egging her on. 

 

"I can...manage." Willas said in a low, soft voice as he watched her. "Thank you." Sansa grabbed her coat and clutch, fixing the strap onto her shoulder and folding her coat in half over her arm carrying it out as they left the room.  

 

Sansa and Willas walked side by side, slowly, the nurses were watching them as they made their way out of the hospital, covering their mouths as they whispered and laughed. Willas of course, seemed oblivious as he was focusing on each step, but Sansa managed to overhear a few of the wagging tongues. Sansa blinked and thought the best course of action was to strike up some form of conversation with him. 

"I wasn't sure if you had somewhere to go...but I told the doctor that you would be staying with me, unless of course you object." Sansa fiddled with her car keys as they waited for the elevator to take them to the baser level. 

 

"You're very kind...and I'm grateful. But I wouldn't wish to stay with you if it's an inconvenience. A bigger one than...all of this." Willas was very soft spoken, bewildered. The elevator chimed as the doors opened and the users that had reached their destination floor stepped out. The only one left, Doctor Pycelle. Who was lost checking his timepiece. Sansa had the tiniest shred of hope that he wouldn't look up before she stepped in, but smiled anyways, prepared to greet him with a smile. Her instincts were seasoned after all, and the doctor smiled back at her once he recognized her. 

 

"Ah, Miss Stark, all done here?" His papery hands clicked the lid of his timepiece shut before tucking it into the side of his coat. By now, Sansa was sure that he'd run to the Lannisters with her as gossip, unless he already had, in which case, this was simply an update. 

 

"All done. Thank you doctor, for everything." Sansa's plastered smile was making her cheeks hurt, as she pressed the base floor button on the elevator. The lift was tormentingly slow, even though no one else on any other floor had use of it. "Please extend my gratitude to all the other staff." 

"I will, thank you Miss Stark. We will discuss the work group's strengths and wantings before the Lannister benefit...with any luck, perhaps we will meet there again. Cersei Lannister will oblige your presence, I have no doubt. She does send her regards."

Willas looked up at Sansa and quietly studied her, she was still exchanging pleasantries with the doctor when he saw her expression suddenly falter, her eyes, once smiling, in an instant turned to searching the surroundings for an escape. The smile she had on her face was becoming more and more difficult to maintain, and finally, the doors of the elevator opened. Sansa all but dashed out of the elevator and Willas followed her as quick as he had just learned. Sansa walked quicker and quicker to her car, a black sedan and Willas stopped a few feet away, watching as Sansa's hands shook as she tried to open the driver's door with her key. 

 

"I don't know who that man is...Sansa..." Willas stepped towards her, giving her an earnest look. "But I know I don't like what he just did to you..." 

 

Tears were pooling in Sansa's eyes and she wiped them away with the back of her hand as she turned to look at him. "He doesn't matter. None of them do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> None of this is what you'll expect.


	5. I saw you.

The books laid out on the table in front of Willas contained relatively straight forward instructions and illustrations, while others had photographs accompanying the text. He had studied them for days, silently reading the forewords, the basic introductory chapters and then the basic techniques. Ever since the drive back from the hospital, he saw that Sansa had been estranged, especially by the doctor's last remarks in the elevator. Willas had not even the slightest understanding of what meaning the name he'd said towards the end meant to Sansa, but he didn't need more details than seeing her leave the building distraught. The drive towards the cottage was scarcely relaxing to either. Sansa's delicate hands were wringing the steering wheel so tightly that the blood drained from her fingers and she looked as white as a ghost. She bit down on the corner of her mouth to keep from breaking down into tears and Willas only drank in the details, completely helpless to offer solace or any degree of reassurance. Of course, she was never anything less than polite and courteous towards him, even if it meant choking back her despair, so long as it meant that she wouldn't have to discuss the matter any further. Willas asked no questions, empathizing.

 

It was with this in mind, that he even ventured into her father's woodworking room. Days had passed, and Sansa would often sit with her laptop in the living room and after a few moments of staring at the lit up screen, she would decide that she couldn't focus, and she anxiously paced around, her fingers buried in her hair as she took deep and long breaths. Willas saw that she always avoided his presence inside the cottage, and he realized she needed a wider berth to freely be herself. She didn't have an obligation to care for him, even if she insisted. His leg was still pained, underneath all the bandages that they insisted he use to keep it from exposure. Personally, he was of a mind to sit with his scar out in the open, free of any linens or other dressings and let it dry out. Nevertheless, the doctor, the nurses and of course Sansa always insisted that his leg be properly dressed. The bandages itched often, and when they itched, he scratched and the throbbing pain of his scarring muscle surfaced, making him grind his teeth until it subsided.

The room was almost a lodge itself, a cold stone floor, wooden walls and furniture on one end, and on the other routers, saws, a jointer, and piles of wooden boards and planks of many sizes, neatly stacked crossways one on top of another. A bookshelf was located next to the furniture, with tomes and issues of woodworking magazines filed, and a few other beginner books. Willas remembered how to read from his days in school before his exile, it was a skill that he kept to remind himself of the days when he was a man, and in truth, it was a passtime that he had grown quite fond of as a child. Hobbling towards the shelf, sans his crutches, he removed a tattered pale yellow book from the shelf. It was the first on the end from left to right and wiped away a thin coat of dust with his fingers from the spine as he slowly opened it, browsing the crisp pages to try and grasp the subject of the book. - _Basic woodworking_.- He said the words to himself as he flipped to the beginning, marked the page with his fingers and looked around the room for a seat. A wooden chair was within reach, overlooking the tools and next to a small, plainly built table.

Willas sat down and placed the open book on the table, reading it in the daylight that came in through the window. Making a habit of this for days on end, he would quietly leave the house, hoping that Sansa's inner storm would subside. His sentiment towards her was warm, she was always very kind, selfless, despite her wariness of him, and she never lacked for politeness or patience with him. After several days of committed reading, he decided to try his hand at making a basic structure, he'd identified the tools and the hardware he'd need and picked out adequately sized boards, hinges, bolts and beams. Per the instructions, he checked the holds on the saw's blade and inspected that the serrated edges were sharp enough. The construction of a small chest seemed exceedingly simple, as he lowered the mask that was hung on a peg next to the saw over his face and switched on the blade. The pencil lines he'd drawn over the boards and taken special care of tracing as straight as possible marked the blade's trajectory through the wood and sawdust began to fly. The blade whirred as it cut through the planks so easily, they might as well have been made of butter.

 

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Inside the cottage, Sansa had exchanged walking back and forth anxiously around every square foot of the building, for coffee and sitting on the couch with Lady propped up against her side. Lady was always strangely empathetic with Sansa, in a synchrony that could very well have made a story in the local papers. Sansa's fingers were wrapped around her cooling blue winter mug, and she stared ahead blankly, almost catatonic. To say that she was overwhelmed would have been an understatement. She left the city to do some soul searching, not to be dragged back into that bleak reality by means of the Lannisters and their publicity stunt-gala, and mainly of course there was Willas, the strange man she'd found wandering in the woods. She had never really given much thought to the circumstances in which she'd found him until just now. He was intriguing, to say the least. Surely if he'd been an escaped psychiatric patient, the doctor or the nurses would have picked up on it when treating him? Instead, the nurses simpered, and giggled about his hale physique and his soft spoken temper. Curled up on her couch wearing her long green-knit jumper and her long hair tied over her shoulder with a white satin ribbon, Sansa huddled closer to Lady, her thoughts dwelling more and more on the subject of the strange man who was sharing her roof. Willas hardly seemed like he was hot tempered, his eyes were very studious of their surroundings, and Sansa was more inclined to believe he was less a case of deranged than he was dazed and confused, but not at all unintelligent. If the state of affairs had been another, and they'd met differently, Sansa might have even found herself attracted to him. He seemed to be the polar opposite of every disastrous event she'd experienced sentimentally.

 

A loud whirring sound startled Lady, who jumped off the couch and began to howl and bark at the door that led to the workshop built at the side of the cottage. Sansa slowly sat upright, placing her mug on the coffee table and pulling down her jumper as she stood up, walking out of the cottage to investigate. The wooden door creaked loudly as Sansa shouldered through, but the whirring of the saw muffled the hinges. Willas, she saw, was quite entertained driving timber boards through the saw and checking the cuts with the spirit level. With his back turned to her, Sansa couldn't see what it was that had his attention, whatever it was, it slipped from his fingers and fell to the floor. Willas clumsily bent down to pick it up, forgetting that the saw was still on. Sansa lunged when she saw he tried to pull himself up by clutching at the table, inadvertently sliding his left hand in the direction of the blade. Sansa grabbed his hand by the wrist and quickly lifted it out of the spinning saw's way, but not before the edges grazed across his palm.

Sansa dropped the safety guard over the blade and switched it off. "You're supposed to turn it off when you're done!" She held the back of his hand in her palm as she examined the fleshy crimson oozing from his hand. "You could have sawed it clean off!" Her cheeks were almost as red as Willas' hand. "What were you thinking?!"

Willas' right hand clutched at his bloody palm and he looked down, derided. "I'm sorry." He pulled away and tightened his bloody hand into a fist to stop the bleeding, scolded. Sansa was grateful that she knew to walk in and see what he was doing before they wound up at the hospital again, this time with Dr. Pycelle sewing his hand back onto his wrist.

"Show me your hand, Willas." Sansa could tell that it wasn't a mere scratch, as the blood continued to drip through his clenched fingers. Drops had fallen all over the work bench and the timber he was cutting. Willas grunted as he opened his hand and offered the bloody view to her. The cut was deep, fleshy, and no sooner than he opened it, crimson began to pool in his hand.

Sansa sighed, biting the corner of her lip as she removed the long white ribbon that was tied around her hair like a diadem and kept her auburn mane over her shoulder. She fastened it around his hand and grabbed him by the other, pulling him back into the cottage.

Lady was waiting for them as they walked in, and she must have smelled the blood as she quickly stood and began to circle them, agitated and growling. "Lady not now!" Sansa snapped at her, and the direwolf, browbeaten, backed away with her tail between her legs and her ears pointed sideways. Sansa led Willas to the kitchen sink and turned on the taps, first the cold then the hot, then waited for it to be lukewarm before rinsing his hand under the jet. The water splashed as it hit his palm, the water in the steel sink ran red as Sansa gently dabbed around the gash with her ribbon, washing away the crusty dried blood. Willas grunted and groaned, snapping his fingers shut when Sansa turned off the water, drawing back his hand and watching it, contemplating the sight of it.

"You can't just leave it like that. I need to stitch it." Sansa said as she squeezed the blood water out of her ribbon and threw it in a hamper. This was one of the eerily strange moments that made her grateful her mother insisted she and Arya attend first aid workshops, and that she also insisted Sansa keep a very well stocked first aid kit within reach. Sansa thought about all the things she would need as Willas stood there, watching her with _those_ damned eyes. "Sit down in the living room while I find the first aid kit." She said as she walked to the front door and opened the coat closet, standing on her toes and feeling around the top shelf for the steel box. Pulling it down, she opened it and saw that there were unopened bandages, a bottle of iodine solution, and the basic suture kit, with hooked needles and a pack of sterilized surgical nylon. She'd need something more, unless she were to make him sit through her driving a steel needle in and out of his palm, and she quickly turned on her heels and skipped to the medicine cabinet, finding an unopened solution of injectable lidocaine. With the local anesthetic and a brand new syringe in hand, she shook the vial in one to make it homogeneous.

Willas was sitting down in the chestfield sofa, next to the recliner that was also next to the coffee table. Sansa stepped around a lamp and crossed the room to sit in the recliner, with the first aid kit in hand. She opened the kit and picked out the anti-septic iodine solution, unscrewing the cap and turning it over to moisten a piece of cotton. Willas continued to observe her, this time mindful of every detail. Her cheeks turned cerise when she was startled, and she had a habit of biting down on her lower lip, but her hands were always steady, dainty and delicate, but never lacking confidence.

Sansa took his wounded hand in one of her own and held it as she began to dab at the gash with the solution, seeing that he didn't mind or complain of a sting, she even began to lightly scrub it out. Then came the part that wouldn't make him sit so easily, she thought, as she prepped a syringe with the lidocaine and drew out a small amount from the vial. She was almost certain he would flinch, but she had to credit him, he didn't so much as let out a sigh as she numbed his palm around the cut. He was watching her.

"Usually some people feel discomfort when they have that done. You didn't?" Sansa figured she might as well keep him entertained, in case the anesthetic wore off before she finished the needlework.

"I've had much worse, but I won't deny it is slightly unpleasant." Willas replied coolly, holding still as Sansa opened the nylon pack and fixed the thread into the surgical needle. After a few moments, he could feel his hand start to lose sensation and become a little chilly. "Have you done this a lot?"

"Not exactly, but I remember the basic principles." Sansa brushed a strand of her hair over her ear and glanced up at him, before shooting her eyes back down to his hand and driving the needle through his skin, across the cut and then across more skin, she'd tied a knot at the end of the thread and began to pull, tightening the skin together, before repeating the cycle, each time she was careful that the strands and the stitches were as neat and evenly distant as possible. "What were you even thinking trying trying your hand in the shed?"

Willas sunk slightly into his seat, hardly expecting to be reprimanded again. "It seemed easy enough...I thought I understood it all." Letting out an exasperated sigh, he then twisted his mouth. "I was lucky though...that you walked in and..." Hardly needing him to finish the thought, Sansa tilted her head and continued to drive the needle in and out. Willas cleared his throat and looked away from her.

- _Now he wont look at me?_ \- Sansa was less than pleased at how inconclusive her observations regarding him were proving to be. "Do I make you uncomfortable?" She said as she watched the needle she drew out and tightened another stitch, blinking then looking up at him through her eyelashes, and raising a brow.

Willas froze for a moment, dumbstruck by the look she was giving him and after a few seconds, shook his head. "Not at all. Why do you ask such a thing?"

 

Sansa had finished stitching his hand and tied a small, discrete knot with the nylon before cutting the needle loose and disposing of the surplus thread. She wiped the needle clean with iodine and tucked it away in it's case, then picking out a gauss packet from the kit and opening it, trimming it with the scissors in the kit to fit his hand and using the athletic tape to bandage his hand. "Why were you in the shed?"

 

Willas shifted in his seat, furrowing his brow. "I thought I'd be...out of your path. You seemed to want solitude." His attempt, now that he reflected on it, proved to be quite counter-effective. "I'd never seen you go into the shed, so I figured..." He moved his jaw from side to side and scratched at his cheek with his cheek with his good hand.

 

Sansa sat upright and crossed her legs, bringing one up over the other, her eyes never leaving him. - _What are you doing?_ \- She thought to herself. - _You hardly know this man!_ \- "You deduced this because...?" He had some depth to his reasoning, she had to admit. In her thoughts she was arguing with herself, one half of her being logical about the situation, trying to convince herself that she couldn't feel butterflies for him, and the other gathering every tiny detail on why she found him so appealing. The latter part was mostly founded on differences between him and Joffrey.

 

"I saw you." He said softly, his green eyes looking at her earnestly as he rested back against the sofa, his lean figure no more relaxed than it had been earlier.

 

It was akin to an out of body experience, Sansa's thoughts were screaming as she leaned forward and took his hands. Willas instinctively leaned his torso towards her, and one of her hands cupped his strong jaw, as his eyes, once soft, now bold, looked directly into hers. Her thoughts stopped racing when their lips met.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next one heats up...stay tuned.


	6. Hmmm....

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can turn back now...

Kissing. Sansa never put much thought into it, but Willas was shy at first, when their lips first brushed against each other's. Sansa herself was at first inquisitive, curiously exploring his lips with her own when she confirmed her suspicion; that he had never locked into a kiss with anyone. He seemed to let on that a kiss with open eyes was awkward, as when Sansa slightly opened her own to gauge his reaction, she saw that his eyes were closed. - _Good._ \- She thought to herself. - _That means he enjoys it_.- When Sansa pulled away, her right hand was still cupping his face, and Willas' eyes remained closed, but the expression on his face was soft, as if he had fallen into a trance. 

Taking a deep breath, Willas came back into his senses and opened his eyes, watching Sansa intently, boldly. The look he had on his face made Sansa feel like a deer at the mercy of some predator. He  _was_ a predator. She remembered his words as she met his eyes with her own sapphires. Willas blinked and his expression softened once more, before he cleared his throat to speak. "Thank you." 

After that, Sansa's curiosity was only further stirred. 

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After days of experimenting with him, Sansa drew her conclusions. 

Willas seemed to revel in closeness, as he never seemed to mind Sansa walking straight up to him and standing on her toes to plant a kiss on his cheek or lips, or in the case that he was sitting down on the couch, when she propped herself next to him and leaned her head on his shoulder. Whenever it was Sansa sitting on the couch though, Willas would sit next to her and watch her hands curiously. Sansa pretended not to notice until he brushed his fingertips lightly over the smooth skin of her arms, down her wrists and to her hands, at which point she would blush and her cheeks turn a bright cerise that would draw a slight chuckle from Willas. - _He also enjoys that.-_

Several times, Sansa revisited kissing, consolidating facts and each time growing more intrepid. At first, she would rest her hands on his chest as her tongue teased his. Feeling his heartbeat suddenly jump under her palms, just as he would gasp softly. - _It's something new and it's something good for him.-_

 

On the last occasion, Sansa conducted the most audacious of her surveys. Willas hobbled into the kitchen, barefoot to place an empty glass into the sink, turning on the tap and washing it clean with a sponge. Sansa was sitting at the breakfast table in the kitchen, with her blue winter mug set in front of her, she'd finished her lemon tea when Willas came in, and he gave her the most smitten smile. There was no way to not admire him. Even with a slightly leaned stance on his uninjured leg, he was still broad, muscled and lean with a plaid shirt and a pair of jeans. Sansa observed for a few moments before she stood up, walked to his side with her blue mug in hand and placed it on the counter next to the sink. She was wearing an unreasonably short skirt, just above her knee despite the chill outside, and a teal silk deep v-neck blouse with capped sleeves, her hair up in a messy bun. 

"Would you mind getting this for me?" She said softly as she turned her back to the counter and leaned against it, still standing next to him. 

Willas obliged, nodding with a smile and washing the mug with a soap-soaked sponge, before running it under the warm jet and rinsing it clean. Sansa took a step and wound up behind him, ghosting and slowly, walking her index and middle fingers up his spine. As soon as Sansa's fingers reached the base of his neck just under his nape, Willas sucked in a deep, hitched, breath, and didn't release it until Sansa lifted her fingers, he tensed himself and froze.

 

"You don't like that?" Sansa said serenely, almost in a sing-song voice as she smirked. This had been his most conspicuous reaction after several days of playful touches and kisses. 

 

"I...do." The water in the tap was still running freely as Willas answered in a hushed exhalation. His hands were tightly gripping the edge of the counter, his hands and knuckles white. This, Sansa delightfully observed, enraptured him.

 

"You're silly..." Sansa cooed, stood behind him, she reached around him to turn of the sink taps with a single hand, as the other pulled on his plaid shirt, untucking it from his jeans and sliding in underneath, feeling the taut muscles of his lower back and sliding over his side to caress his hard, carved torso. Willas leaned his head back and tried to glance at her over his shoulder, moaning slightly under his breath. 

He felt firm under her touch, his skin at first felt shivered under her hands, until her touch smoothed out the gooseflesh with warmth. This was more intoxicating than she had imagined. To both. 

 

"Sansa..." His breathing was ragged, and whereas his voice would have usually been stern, it was now girdled. Sansa slid her hand up his stomach to his chest, feeling his heartbeat pulsate even before she'd placed her hand exactly over his heart. 

 

"Yes?" Sansa answered in a voice soft as honey, standing on her toes and locking her chin over his shoulder as her other hand began to unbutton his shirt from the bottom up. 

 

"Don't...stop." Willas looked down, resting his chin on his collarbone and watched her hands, one of them opening his shirt to reveal his unevenly rising chest.  Sansa smiled as she stepped to his side and brought his face down to hers, in a fiery, unreserved kiss. Willas responded with just as much eagerness, this time being so bold as to hold her face in his hands and settle his brow against hers between wet kisses, his face just as flustered as his chest. As Sansa pressed herself closer to him, she noticed a straining hardness under his jeans, sending shudders down her spine and making a warmth pool between her legs. 

 

Sansa realized that even if he wasn't sure of what followed, his body wanted it just as much as her own did. She had no reservations in taking his hand and rushing him out of the kitchen (albeit with some effort as he followed as quick as he could) to her bedroom. As soon as they walked in through the doorway of her bedroom, Sansa spun on her heels to face him and resumed their lustful kissing, divesting him of his opened shirt by slipping it down his shoulders and tossing it aside without a care in the world, her hands caressing his smooth chest and slowly moving lower with every passing second. 

Willas watched, with a dazed and light headed look on his face as her hands reached the button on his jeans and her fingers deftly loosened it. His first instinct was to pull his jeans down and wriggle out of them, but before he could slide them off, one of Sansa's hands was cupping his hardened manhood, outlined against his left thigh, as her other unzipped him and reached in under his boxers, finding his hard flesh swollen and eager to be relieved of his garments. Sansa was still kissing him and she nipped his bottom lip as she lowered his jeans, pleased when he took the lead and stepped out of them. He was naked as his name day, except for the bandages on his leg and hand, yet he was, undeniably, a most pleasing sight. Sansa smiled as she put her hands on his chest and pressed him until he was standing at the side of the bed, where at her insistence, he fell on his back and bit his lip, laid out with his arousal throbbing at the sight of her. The sight of his bare manhood was slightly intimidating, as by the look of it, not even both her hands could fit his length and his girth itself looked challenging.  

"Can...I see you?" Willas said timidly as he leaned up on his elbows, looking at her as if he were a blind man just given the gift of sight. Sansa nodded as she stepped forward, pulled off her hair tie and slid her blouse over her shoulders and head, then tossing her hair. Her skirt, she opened by the side holds and slid it down gracefully, swinging her hips from side to side and stepping out of it as she left her clothes in a puddle at her feet. Clad in only her lacy pink brassiere and the matching pair of bottoms, she climbed on the bed and straddled Willas, leaning on her knees at the height of his stomach. Taking his hands, she placed them over her hips and smirked, on top of him with her knees planted on the bed at his sides. 

 

"Could you help me?" Sansa moved his hands up to the edge of her panties at her hips and bit the corner of her mouth, wondering if he could already sense the arousal between her panties that moistened her thighs. Willas' fingers slowly peeled down her lace trimmed panties, his fingers learning her topography as he evenly pulled them down at the sides, behind, where his hands grasped her shapely bottom, and in front where he revealed her slick mound. Sansa gradually tossed her head back and moaned loudly, as his hands took their time, caressing her hips, thighs and arse, before his uninjured settled between her legs, just below her warm flower. - _Damn him.-_ She thought to herself, his patience was greater than her own but their arousals were fairly matched as Sansa shifted backwards towards his feet and lowered herself. His hard manhood stood long and up against his stomach. Her change in position left it caught between his stomach and her slick womanhood, as she decided to further test his patience, despite her own coming to a close end. Willas gasped and bent his right leg up as high as he could, curling his toes in excitement and moaning deeply. 

 

"You haven't finished undressing me..." Sansa grinded into him just a little further and moved his hands up to her breasts from her hips. Willas' gaze was full of heat as he laid his head back against the mattress and instinctively arched his hips against hers, groaning but never removing his hands from where she'd place them.  Instead, his fingers fumbled as tried to remove the brassiere, sliding the straps down her shoulders and pulling it down as to free her breasts. Sansa laughed, finding his efforts endearing as she unhooked the clasp between the cups and carelessly tossed her brassiere over the side of the bed. Willas, had laid back and took in the sight of her gloriously naked body, his spine tensed and his hips arched further upwards. 

 

Sansa only needed to reach down with a hand between her thighs and grasp his shaft. Her fingers couldn't wrap around him, but closing her eyes, one of her hands stroked his eager manhood, as the other massaged his hips and hard stomach, urging him to relax. Willas felt feverish, entranced by her gentle caresses and settled on the bed, moaning as he let her set the pace. Granted, Sansa hadn't shared a bed with anyone in a long time, but she was so overcome with desire, that she forgot to be safe, forgot to find a condom, and desperately moved her hips against his hard cock, letting him into her with an unbridled moan. 

"Ahhh...." Willas sighed out in pleasure and grit his teeth, being inside of her felt unbearably hot, but also delicious. It was unlike anything he'd ever felt as she slowly took in more and more of him, inch by inch until she winced and stopped, pulling back slowly until naught but the tip was left, and then taking him back in. Leaning on her knees, she set the speed and intensity. Willas' breathing picked up, and he knew to grind his hips against hers, his hands had slid up her thighs from her knees and rested on her legs just below her bottom, as Sansa posted gracefully, her eyes glancing at him before she moaned and closed them, while her cheeks, breasts and just about everywhere he touched her turned a bright shade of pink. Slowly at first, she moved up and down, sliding and bouncing off of his cock before she grew keen and spurred into a faster rhythm.

"Ohhhhh gods..." Sansa's hair was disheveled, her auburn mane bouncing wildly back and forth as her hands were on his chest, pushing him down against the bed, and with her hips she rocked back and forth, her womanhood stroking him with every motion of her hips. She continued to move, feeling the base of his shaft rub against  _that_ spot inside of her, making her ride him more wildly than before, that sweet sensation of release building up in her core as she swayed harder and faster, moaning incontrollably.  "Do you like it?"

Willas nodded, lifting his head up to watch her more closely before speaking in a strained voice. "Yes... I do..."  The sight of her breasts bouncing, the cerise in her cheeks, and the sound of her moaning made Willas clench, as he felt closer and closer to an indescribable feeling. While he was uncertain, he wasn't  anywhere near unwilling to see it through.

 

Sansa came first; she called out his name in ecstasy and suddenly stopped rocking back and forth. Her womanhood spasmed around his cock and after a few contractions, she slowly rolled back and forth fewer than a handful of times on her knees and moaning softly, as a gush of warm fluid flowed out and trickled down her thighs and onto him. 

 

Willas was watching when suddenly, the feel of her tightening around him made his hips surge, he could feel a sudden release in his cock, signaled by a pulsating. His seed roared with Sansa's womanhood coaxing him, and he bit down on his lip, rather than shouting as his warm load exploded inside of her in a thick stream. It was only when the pleasurable sensation had washed over, that he realized how tightly he was clutching Sansa's hips, holding her down so closely that she hardly had any room from him. Willas loosened his grip before caressing her red hair and tucking it behind her ear, this time, he was the one to kiss  _her._ "That was...amazing..." He said between deep breaths.

He was agitated, and his heartbeat was running wild, a fact that didn't escape Sansa as she laid over his chest and kissed him back, one of her hands caressed the side of his face as the other stroked his chest, calming him. She felt his climax and it added to her own, the sudden rush of his warm load bringing her even more satisfaction as she felt it mix to her own. "It was...was that enough?" 

Willas laughed and shook his head, the veins everywhere in his body were noticeably standing out as shifted her onto her back and laid on his side, taking the time to explore every bit of her body before his arousal returned. "I'm a wild cat." 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *pushes self eject button*  
> Don't judge meeee!!


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